


o, swear not by the moon

by wildlings (candybank)



Category: GOT7
Genre: Blood is mentioned a lot, Human Youngjae, Is that a thing, M/M, Vampire AU, Vampire JB, also sire bonds........., does this count as bloodplay idk, nbtm verse, tw biting, tw blood, tw smut but its not explicit, tw violence, u know i had to do it to em, vampire Jinyoung, vampire canons are taken from vampire diaries so i guess this is a vampire diaries au kind of, vampire hunter jackson, with notes of anne rice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23926129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candybank/pseuds/wildlings
Summary: and jinyoung does what he does best. he takes selfishly, and he takes. he claims jaebum’s body like a divine right, pulls him in and pulls him closer just so he can push him off the edge. tears his skin apart and makes him bleed just so he can watch him become whole again.love made in blood-soaked silk, because there is no other way to live.
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung, side jackjae side 2jae side jinson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	o, swear not by the moon

**Author's Note:**

> nbtm verse vampire diaries au stolen queen of the damned quotes idk this is mess but..got7 sexy vampires!!!!!!(i did not beta this im sorry for it)
> 
> fic aesthetics..they all look like they do in nbtm era

there’s a kind of quiet in the air. a somber. a longing. despite the loud cheering of children as they skip down the snowy road and the constant ringing of christmas bells, jaebum can hear it. he can hear everything. the water running beneath his feet, the leaves rustling in the winter wind,

youngjae raising a glass of red wine, the rich liquid sloshing inside his cup, the wood crackling in the fireplace behind him. the rug as it moves beneath his soft cotton house slippers. his lips cracking as his mouth spreads into a smile, the couch dipping with his weight as he presses his knee upon it. his heart as it races and races and races—breaking into a sprint once their lips touch.

jaebum looks away, gasping softly. he feels as if his heart has been ripped straight out of his ribcage—and he  _ knows  _ the feel of it all too well, because so many have reached inside him and tried to tug his heartstrings broken.

“turn it off, jaebum.”

“i miss him.”

jinyoung sighs, almost exasperated—but still, a family man in his mortal life, he’s always much more understanding of jaebum’s melancholy during christmas than he is every other day of the year. “turn it off,” he repeats, firm and almost gentle, “you know better.”

jaebum watches for only a second more. youngjae says something about merry christmas, about i love you, about there’s some leftover ham in the fridge if you get hungry later, i have some work to do. no stay, the man laying in the couch says, tugging at youngjae’s wrist. youngjae laughs, stumbling forward, kissing him again.

jaebum swallows, throat dry and scratchy—his own faltering heartbeat in his ears. he wishes he’d drop dead. dead with no chance of resurrection. no decay, no rot, no human corpse reanimated by dark magic and fueled by human blood. dead. he wants to go and never come back.

“you were in love,” jaebum says, mind faroff—he’s remembering one of jinyoung’s stories, a small, tender moment between the both of them from years ago, back when jaebum was something breakable and jinyoung hadn’t crushed him like glass.

jinyoung says nothing.

“how did you move on... when they got over your death and found someone else and… went on with their lives without you. grew old without you… how do you deal with that…?” jaebum asks questions he doesn’t really need the answers to. 

he talks to the wind, and jinyoung lets them converse in silence.

jaebum turns to him. “does it get easier?” he asks, pausing for an answer this time. the look in jinyoung’s eyes almost makes jaebum feel ashamed for being hopeful.

“eventually,” jinyoung answers easily, “but at first, it’s near impossible. you turn your emotions off and learn to think about anything else. some days, you think so much about so many other things, you almost forget that they’ve forgotten about you. or that they’re dead, buried beneath the earth. no vampire blood or magic spells to bring them back. just dead.

it’s easier when they’re dead.” an empty little smile passes jinyoung’s lips, his eyes empty too, and his face drained of emotion again just as quickly as it had been colored with some semblance of it. hard as marble, and carved just as carefully as a statue.

“i don’t want youngjae to die…”

“then turn him. he can join us.”

“join us…?” jaebum nearly scoffs, “in what...your eternal cat-and-mouse game with the witches and the hunters and the vampires you’ve pissed off over your one million years of existence…?” jaebum speaks as if none of the words taste right on his blood-soaked tongue, “i would never do that to him.”

jinyoung sighs. his patience running thin—jaebum can see it in the tightening of his jaw, the shifting of his feet. in jinyoung’s five-hundred years on earth, he has never stood in one place for this long. “five hundred,” jinyoung corrects him, stepping into the moonlight, walking closer so he can put his hand on jaebum’s shoulder and squeeze so tight that jaebum’s bones almost shatter underneath their porcelain mantle, “and if you don’t want to turn him into the monster you believe you’ve become, then learn to live with the pain, knowing that it will _never_ wane,” jinyoung says, sounding as old as he is, “learn to live with the knowledge that all things die. and all things that don’t die become cursed. and nature isn’t the giving, nurturing mother that humans have fooled themselves into believing she is. she’s a monster who eats her own children a hundred times over, and doesn’t dole out happy endings no matter how much _good_ _karma_ you’ve accrued in your pathetically short life.

_ turn it off,  _ jaebum,” jinyoung says with finality, his gentleness and understanding fading fast. he turns around to walk ahead, the nervous energy of a prey animal settling back into his veins, anxious to run again. ”we have to go.”

“jackson.”

jinyoung stops in his tracks. “... _ what _ ?” 

“that’s his name,” a strange smile crosses jaebum’s mouth, gaze still fixed on youngjae’s smiling face.

“who…?”

“the one he loves,” jaebum stares endlessly from far behind the glass, cloaked in shadow and night.

jinyoung walks back to him and tries to see what he sees. there’s the nervous energy. the panic.

“ _ jiaer _ ,” the name slips past jinyoung’s lips before he can think it.

“what?”

“we have to go,” jinyoung grips jaebum’s arm tightly, and in the blink of an eye they are far from the woods. back in the empty parking lot behind the local high school. far away from everything, with nothing but the revving of the car and the distant buzz of celebration. 

nothing but footsteps in the mud and a thousand miles.

***

“i’ve never seen you scared,” jaebum says as he walks into their shared hotel room, fluffy bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, toweling his hair dry.

jinyoung grins, rummaging through his suitcase for his nightwear, “you say that as if you have.”

“i did,” jaebum tells him as if it’s an indisputable fact. he plops down onto his own bed. the room is too big. too lavish, too everything. but jinyoung says that it’s humiliating enough to be vampires on the run with no estate to call their own, he says it’s humiliating because the world is the vampires’ home and they should be able to live anywhere they please, he says the least they can do is sleep on a comfortable bed.

to jaebum’s surprise, jinyoung humors him. “is that so?” jinyoung says, as if he won’t believe the answer but he wants to hear it anyway, “when?”

“earlier,” jaebum says, “when you were looking at…” he trails off, unsure what exactly jinyoung saw. if he was looking at something else besides youngjae cozying up with a stranger, if he could see things that jaebum couldn’t. “... when you said that name.  _ jiaer _ . you looked terrified—” jaebum points his finger, “see! there it is again. that weird look in your eye.

… who is he? or… she…?”

jinyoung pauses, almost unsure, almost indecisive. he pauses with words hanging off his tongue, like he’s trying to think of what to say. it takes jaebum off-guard. jinyoung is always so sure of himself, moves with a grace and precision that only seems possible for someone who can see the future. but now, he seems caught in the present. it makes jaebum curious, makes him feel unsafe.

“he’s a hunter,” jinyoung says, pulling out a matching pair of maroon silk pyjamas from his suitcase, “one of hundreds chasing after me, because… because i’m the thing that everyone wants, jaebum.” a smile, almost too smug, tugs at jinyoung’s mouth. 

jinyoung grabs a towel from the dresser, “don’t you feel lucky to have me?”

jaebum doesn’t answer. five years with jinyoung has taught him that jinyoung won’t kill him so easily—what reason jinyoung has for turning him and keeping him around, jaebum doesn’t know. what he does know is that he can push a little harder than most people can, than most people would ever dare to.

what he has learned is that jinyoung isn’t just _ some vampire _ . he’s feared, infamous,  _ wanted _ . he’s on the run from something big, bad and scary, and jaebum never knows the why’s. doesn’t know much of the what’s. but he tries to piece everything together in his free time, like a jigsaw puzzle, hoping that one day he’ll put together a clear picture of jinyoung’s life and find some clue in the blood and the monster goo that’ll leave him to his freedom.

“was he there?” jaebum finds the right question to ask. “earlier… was he there…? why did you say his name?”

jinyoung doesn’t answer. pauses and full stops and page breaks. he walks across the room, gathering things from one drawer and walking to the next. by the time he says anything, he has one hand on the bathroom door, the other cradling bottles and tubes of creams and gels. 

if only the myth about vampires being invisible in mirrors was true.

“he was with your friend,” jinyoung tells jaebum, carefully watching his reaction. “he was laying on that couch, and your little mortal was proclaiming eternal to love to him.”

jinyoung closes the door behind him, finding it funny—the way jaebum’s little hummingbird heart starts pounding heavily.

***

“why is he with youngjae?” the panic in jaebum’s voice is apparent. jinyoung’s hair is still damp with water when jaebum starts badgering him with questions. and the night is too deep to be thinking of so much, jinyoung thinks.

he sighs as he towels his hair, grabs his book and settles into his own bed. 

“the more important question is why is your useless little mortal ex hanging around a two-hundred-year old vampire hunter who also happens to be a vampire,” jinyoung tucks himself in between the sheets and adjusts the pillows behind him. he rests his back against the headboard. “close the curtains, will you, dear?”

driven by an inexplicable need to please jinyoung, a stirring feeling in the pit of his stomach that he has been unable to shake since he became a vampire, jaebum immediately gets out of bed and draws the curtains closed. the light from the moon disappears, and then there is nothing but the dim yellow glow of antique lamps.

“thank you,” jinyoung says, undeterred by 500 years of slaughter and blood and violation from forgetting his manners.

“he’s a  _ vampire _ ?” jaebum continues, starting to feel impossibly more anxious.

“i’m sure of it,” jinyoung says, opening his novel and putting the bookmark down on the bedside table, “i turned him into one, after all.”

“what…? you said… you said you’ve only ever turned three people in your life…”

there’s a pause again. lines of text and fine print and white ink. jinyoung laughs.

“i can hear the cogs in your brain turning and crushing the old spider webs lodged in between them, jaebum,” jinyoung comments, amused.

“we… we have to go back, jinyoung,” jaebum says, gripping the sheets between white knuckles, “i can’t— who knows what he’ll do to youngjae… i don’t want anything bad to happen to him.”

“what’s the worst thing that jiaer can do to your precious youngjae? _ kill _ him?” jinyoung sounds so blase that it enrages jaebum. “in which case, it’ll be much easier for you to move on and live your afterlife.” jinyoung speaks and speaks and spews his venom, and jaebum wishes he would stop talking so that jaebum could see anything besides red, “like i said, it’s easier when they’re dead.”

in a matter of a single second, there is the thunderous sound of a crash, a flash of movement, a blink of light. jinyoung’s book thrown against the wall on the other side of the room, pages ripping, a dent in the concrete wall. jaebum on top of him, grabbing his shirt collar, wrinkling the silk,  _ snarling _ at him—face so close to his that jinyoung can feel his winter-cold breath on his skin.

and it’s always so hard to feel anything.

jinyoung grins. watching blood pulse through the thick blue veins around jaebum’s eyes that have turned black-and-red from anger,  _ hunger _ , fear. his teeth sharp and bared and his skin the true color of a corpse. so enraged that the veins at the base of his neck have begun to show too, creeping like vines up to his jaw.

without a word, jinyoung grabs his hair and pulls his head to the side, exposing his neck fully so he can sink his teeth into the ever-thin flesh of jaebum’s neck. he drinks, and drinks, until jaebum starts to scream from the pain. 

drinking the blood of another vampire does nothing to sate the hunger of another, but jinyoung has always thought blood sharing to be so intimate. so emotional, such a pure show of affection and devotion, so he does it now. he drinks the blood flowing through jaebum’s veins, the blood of a hundred different people all at once—stolen, borrowed, taken.

jaebum is weakened momentarily by the extreme loss of blood. it’s no doubt that he’ll recover quickly from it, but jinyoung seizes his chance. he extracts his fangs from jaebum’s flesh, then grabs both of his wrists and turns them over in bed with the speed of a vampire, and a vampire alone. a speed unimaginable to humans, a violation of nature, a fortunate side effect of such a perverted illness.

he pins jaebum to the bed. jinyoung savors the vulnerable tiredness scrawled messily across jaebum’s face for only a moment before he tears his own wrist open with his teeth, and then presses his bloodied wrist against jaebum’s mouth. there is a moment of resistance, hesitation, then there is only  _ hunger _ .

jaebum seems to forget. his anger fades into nothing, his principles and his morals overcome by  _ primal instinct _ . he feeds. he drinks, he takes and he takes and jinyoung frees his wrists so that he can grab onto jinyoung’s hand and sink his teeth deeper into jinyoung’s flesh and drink the blood that he has been so generously offered.

jaebum turns ravenous, an eager, almost crazed, look in his eyes when he lifts his lids to look at jinyoung—mouth still full of his skin and flesh.

jinyoung starts to feel faint, but he strokes his bloodied fingers through jaebum’s hair, smearing red across his dark locks, and he bears the pain for a moment longer.

“enough,” jinyoung finally says, but jaebum refuses to listen. he continues to drink, greedy and hypnotized. “i said  _ enough _ , jaebum—” jinyoung has to grab jaebum’s hair and yank his head back to get him to stop. his flesh tears at the sudden intrusion, healing almost just as quickly as he is wounded.

“ _ please _ ,  _ more— _ ” the words are lost on jaebum’s tongue, drowned in the blood covering his teeth, and jinyoung barely has time to hear him before jaebum is grabbing onto his shirt and shoving his tongue down jinyoung’s throat. more a search for blood than an intimate gesture, jaebum  _ kisses _ him.

if you can call it that.

hungry and greedy and running on impulse alone, jaebum licks jinyoung’s teeth and bites his lip and sucks on the blood that flows out, and then he tries to bite him again. jinyoung finds himself struggling to pull jaebum back, not because he is physically weak, but because this is  _ intoxicating _ —and immortality and eternity aside, jinyoung is still just a man. with all of his strength, jaebum grabs jinyoung’s face, his fingernails drawing lines down jinyoung’s cheeks. blood flows from the wounds that close just as soon as they are opened, but it’s enough for jaebum—he laps at the streaks of blood dripping down jinyoung’s face. and jinyoung is lost for all of a moment until he feels jaebum kissing down his neck, feels the other’s teeth pricking his neck.

with all the strength of a vampire several hundred years older, jinyoung throws jaebum across the room. jaebum hits the television screen hanging on the wall, which cracks and falls over his body after he hits the floor.

there is the quiet moment again, the full stop. heavy breathing and blood dripping and muscles tense. jaebum groans, body sore, coming to as if he has just snapped out of a trance.

“i’m sorry.”

“ _ come here _ .”

jaebum crosses the room too quickly. jinyoung takes his neck and pulls him down, kisses him deeply—an empty gesture, intimate and personal. blood-slicked and wet, hot and cold all in one breath.

“undress,” jinyoung commands, voice barely above a whisper. jaebum pulls his shirt off over his head and climbs into bed with him. and jinyoung pins him to the bed just like before, jaebum’s head towards the foot of the bed this time. and jinyoung, he drags his bloodied fingertips down jaebum’s body, smearing red across pale white. a deadman dragged through the snow, a tear ripped open across a clear sky.

he drags his teeth down jaebum’s body too, opening wounds over and over—none of them open long enough. he bites into jaebum’s sides, his hips, his arms. then, he sits back and watches for a moment as traces of him disappear from jaebum’s body. bite marks fading into smooth skin too quickly. jaebum’s face contorting into pain only for the pain to fade again. jinyoung watches the emotions flash across his face like a movie.

and jaebum’s hair, overgrown and falling almost to his shoulders, strands stuck in clumps—bonded by blood. jinyoung leans down to kiss his open mouth again, feeling his body react, letting himself burn in the fire that has engulfed jaebum’s body.

“ _ more _ ?” jinyoung says, as if mocking jaebum’s pleas from earlier.

jaebum squirms, unable to make himself do anything but nod and grab jinyoung and be  _ hungry _ .

it’s primal, he knows. that’s what jinyoung told him. it’s primal and he can’t fight it—his need for a body. so, he lets himself need jinyoung as if there is no other way to be.

“please,” he answers, turning completely pliant. mind, body and soul.

and jinyoung does what he does best. he takes selfishly, and he  _ takes _ . he claims jaebum’s body like a divine right, pulls him in and pulls him closer just so he can push him off the edge. tears his skin apart and makes him bleed just so he can watch him become whole again.

love made in blood-soaked silk, because there is no other way to live.

***

“where are we going?” wind blowing through the open window, trees passing in a blur—all too familiar and nothing he has ever seen before, jaebum feels like it’s the first time he has ever asked about the  _ where _ .

to his surprise, jinyoung answers him. “home,” jinyoung says, and he says nothing more.

jaebum sips type o from a stolen blood bag like a child drinking out of a juice box with a bendy straw. he looks harder, tries to make out the mismatched puzzle pieces. “where are we…?”

“we’re home,” jinyoung tells him, the edges of a familiar little town coming into view, “we live everywhere and anywhere we choose.

the world is our garden.”

jaebum sits up and empties the blood bag in one long gulp. before long, they’re pulling up into a familiar parking lot behind a familiar high school.

“why are we back here?” jaebum asks.

jinyoung sighs, grabs a pair of sunglasses from the dashboard and slips them on over his eyes. jaebum stare at him for a moment. glittering porcelain, none too fragile.

“i’m tired of running,” jinyoung says, always sounding as if he is at the end of a lie and on the verge of a truth, voice turning as young as he looks when he says, “let’s go save your boyfriend.”

**Author's Note:**

> hi im on [twt](https://twitter.com/jaebumlaurent) lets be fwens
> 
> theres definitely a lot of plot potential here so im sure this will have a next chapter but for now it is.....one shot(famous last words lol)


End file.
